


Good Morning, Great night.

by Cattywh0mpus



Category: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Cartoon)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Love Confessions, Mod Frogs, Morning aftercare, Non-Human Genitalia, Reader likes coffee, Smut, gender neutral reader, if you don’t like coffee I am sorry for breaking your immersion lmao, reader is a bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27601073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattywh0mpus/pseuds/Cattywh0mpus
Summary: (Gender neutral reader.)You have a nice morning with your boyfriend, Jamack.....And a very nice evening the night before.
Relationships: Jamack/OC, Jamack/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Good Morning, Great night.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote half of this in a completely zonked out state of sleepiness so
> 
> Sorry if it reads weird you guyssss
> 
> Ps- I literally wrote this to counteract the PAIN of run_sure_footed’s story “Over” because.....  
> I know y’all hurtin’.

The smell of coffee.

That’s the first thing you register, as you’re gently pulled from unconsciousness.

The sounds of someone rummaging around in the cabinets echos from the kitchen, and for a split second you feel confusion.... 

and then the sleep induced fog clears, and you remember, as a warmth radiates from your chest.

Right. He stayed last night.

You roll onto your back and crack open your eyes to stare at his side of the bed.

Hehe..... _His side_..... that’s what it was now.

You can’t help the stupid grin on your face as you close your eyes again, settling deeper into your pillows, just enjoying this moment.

The early morning light filtering through your ratty curtains.

The sounds of him in your kitchen. Dishes softly clinking together and cabinet doors closing.

And the lingering smell of him on your sheets... like pond water and fresh grass and some kind of old world cologne. Mixing with the smell... of coffee.

_Ohhhh coffee._

You could really use some coffee...

Just then, as if he read your mind, you hear the padding of bare footsteps heading towards the bedroom.

Jamack backs in through the doorway, pushing it open with his shoulder, both his hands too preoccupied with holding two steaming hot cups of coffee.

He’s not exactly dressed, but... it looks like he at least threw on his boxers and undershirt when he got out of bed earlier.

Seeing him like this makes your heart flutter... 

..Which is strange. 

Because you already saw him _in so much less_ last night..

You mull that over as you sleepily watch him turn around, his expression focused, eyes glued to the precarious contents of the mugs in his hands.

He glances up as he takes a tentative step forward, and his demeanor immediately changes, a big soft smile stretching across his features as his eyes meet your own.

_There’s that fluttering feeling again._

He very carefully approaches your side of the bed, crouching awkwardly to set your cup on your makeshift nightstand. 

He lightly chuckles.  
“I may have filled them too high...”

He slowly stands back up, holding his own cup with two hands as he sits softly on the edge of the bed by your legs.  
You absentmindedly lift your leg to a bent position, resting your knee against his back. 

He lets out a content sigh and closes his eyes as he leans some of his weight against your leg, just enough to press it harder against his back.

You rub your knee up and down, feeling the bumpy skin through his undershirt. 

He hums in appreciation and holds his coffee on his lap, seeming to just enjoy the warm mug for now. Maybe he’s letting it cool first.

After a while of this, you groggily sit up and reach for your own mug.

He clears his throat. “I didn’t know how you take your coffee... so I took a guess. Sorry if it’s not how you like it.”

You hold the mug to your mouth and take a long inhale, savoring the aroma, before taking the smallest of sips... 

it _is_ a little too hot... but your need for caffeine can not be stopped.

“Mmmmm..... it’s exactly how I like it.... how did you know..?”

He grins and sits up straighter.

“I told you. I just guessed.”

He says it like it’s no big deal, but... he looks awfully proud of himself.

You chuckle at him and sip your coffee again.

Meanwhile, he’s taken to softly blowing on his.  


You guess it makes sense. He’s cold blooded, afterall. More sensitive to heat.

Suddenly, a memory from last night resurfaces.

* * *

“A-ah _**fuck**_. _.how....you’re...you’re too **hot**_...!”

Jamack’s hold on your hips tightens almost painfully and he pulls back out with a shudder.

You frown, your voice shaky. “Is it uh... t-too much...? Can we... _can we....not_ -“ 

Jamack cuts you off, flustered.

“ ** _NO_** no I- _we_ can do this just... _give me a second_... I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all..”

His thumbs rub circles over your hip bones while he seems to be deep in thought.

You wait patiently, placing your hand over one of his, hoping it helps.... something.

Finally he seems to compose himself.

“Alright... let’s try that again..” 

He slowly presses his tip to your opening again, applying the slightest pressure, until it just barely slips inside.

He hisses.

You can feel your arousal wane, replaced with worry.

“H-hey we expected....that there might be _biological obstacles_... it’s okay if-“

He cuts you off again “Shhh... I’m _alright_.. it’s just... like-“ 

he groans as he pushes a little more of himself inside. 

“..like getting into a hot pool uh- _uhffff_....of water....” 

he stills himself, taking a moment to just breathe. 

You can feel him throbbing against your interior and you have to consciously stop yourself from rocking your hips to take more of him in. You bite your lower lip..

He shakily exhales as he pushes himself the rest of the way in. 

His exhale turns into a croaking whine as his hips come to rest against you.  
You can feel the cool slick around his cloacal opening press wetly against your rump and you shiver.

You both go completely still. _Silent_. Except for the hammering of your heartbeats and your shuddering breaths.

Finally, he grins down at you and ever so slightly rocks his hips back and forth experimentally.

“S-see..? Just had to _adjust_...”

* * *

“.... Are you alright?”

Jamack’s concerned question snaps you out of your memory and you can feel your face flush.

“Wh-huh.... _oh._ Y-Yeah. Just......... _thinking_......”

You look away and take another.... long.... sip of your coffee.

He narrows his eyes suspiciously and lowers his coffee to his lap.

“.....Do I even want to know?”

You glance sideways at him with a smug smirk.

“...oh yes. Probably. But I’m not going to tell you~”

You take another sip.

He smiles and rolls his eyes.

“Still keeping secrets, huh..... _even after_ _last night?_ ”

You swallow your coffee wrong, sputtering and coughing as some of it dribbles down your chin and onto your naked chest.

Now it’s his turn to look smug.

Jamack puts his coffee down and leans forward to wipe the dribble off your chin with his thumb.

His face is close to yours, and you can feel his breath ghosting across your skin. “You’re a _mess_.” He chuckles affectionately, and the sound wraps around your heart and **squeezes**.

You reach up, almost without thinking, and gently place your hand over his, holding it in place against your jawbone....  leaning into his touch.

His smile fades, and his expression changes to one more... serious.

This all feels familiar.

He rubs his thumb back and forth against your cheek and his eyes flit down to your lips... but only for a moment.

You slowly move your other hand to put your coffee back on your nightstand, as if moving too quickly might disturb the moment.

You suddenly feel very vulnerable. 

His face is.... Well, big.  
It takes up the entirety of your vision, but even so, you find yourself trying your best to look anywhere but his eyes.

A certain feeling wells up inside you, and before you can stop yourself-

“You know... I meant it. When I said it...”

It’s vague. It could mean anything, really.

But the hand on your jaw slides down to the crook of your neck.

His breathing... changes.

You’re still avoiding his eyes, but the expression on the rest of his face tells you that he knows _exactly_ what you’re referring to.

* * *

Jamack has your ribcage in a death grip now.  
His hands desperately cling to the flesh under your armpits, and his forearms and elbows squeeze your sides.

He seems to like touching you there a lot, actually. 

You’re curious about it, and normally would have asked him for an explanation, but...

Right now your mind is too clouded with lust and focused on the sweet burning waves of pleasure rolling through you with every frantic thrust of his hips.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on all the sensations at once... To commit them to memory.

You can feel the muscles in his toned thighs flexing and unflexing against your own.

His smooth skin is slicked with sweat, and your hand clings to his back, fingers curiously running over every bump.  
  
His belly... is soft. Moreso than the rest of him, and you can feel the soft, pudgy flesh of his underbelly sliding back and forth against your own stomach.

Jamack’s breath comes out in heavy pants, each one punctuated with the raspy beginnings of a croak. 

His breath and scent are everywhere, filling your lungs, making your head swim.

Suddenly his hips pick up speed, his pacing becoming more erratic.  
The bed creaks loudly, the old metal frame not built for this particular level of abuse.

Your whole body feels hot. _So hot_ , especially in comparison to his cool, clammy skin.  
  
One of his hands quickly jumps from it’s place at your side to cup your face instead, his thumb pressed against your jawbone firmly, but not enough to hurt. 

He raises himself on his elbow a little.

Just enough to snake his other arm down and stroke your most sensitive area...  
You keen at the added sensation of his clumsy fingers, working you closer to the edge. All the while, he keeps your expression in his line of sight.

You realize, barely, deliriously, that he is close... _and he wants to **watch** you finish_.  
The thought immediately sends a new wave of hot, embarrassed pleasure washing over you, and you feel yourself closing in on your climax.

He groans loudly and shuts one eye tight.

But not both. He refuses to shut both.  
He is struggling to hold on, to outlast you, but he absolutely will not allow himself to miss out on _the finale._

He tries a new tactic. Both to distract himself and, hopefully, speed you along.

_ “C-ah-..c-cum for me...”  _

His words are hardly above a whisper, and in your lust drunk stupor, you’re not even _really_ sure he said anything.

You look up at him questioningly.

He smiles down at you, completely euphoric, rubbing your jawbone affectionately as he tries again.

“Y-you look...... _so good_...g-geeeetting _fucked_ b-buuhh-“

He pauses to hold in what you can only assume is a full blown croak, shuddering with the effort before letting out a hard exhale. 

“ _-BY M-ME..._ ” he swallows. “You...you ‘re s-such...auh...a muh- _mess_....ah-admit..it...say y-you _LOVE_ it....”

You can’t stand it anymore.

The pleasure building up in your lower belly is about to release, traveling downward.

In a daze, you try to focus on too much at once, too quickly, your impending orgasm coming on too fast for you to sort your thoughts in time.  
And when you open your mouth to meet his playful demands... what comes out instead is,

“I-I ah! _**L-LoOovE YouUuuu..!**_ ”

Jamack’s reaction is immediate.

His eyes go wide before he lifts himself upright and off of you with panicked haste, just in time for his vocal sac to suddenly inflate fully. 

_** BRRRRRI-KI-KI-KI- ** _

It echoes off the walls of the room, loud and shrill.

You’ve never heard him make a sound quite like _that one_ before..

You can feel the powerful vibrations of his call reverberate through him and against your groin as he roughly hilts himself inside you, gripping your thighs so hard against himself, they will surely bruise.   


You can faintly feel him pulsating inside you, but it’s hard to distinguish over your own throbbing orgasm. 

It seems like forever until his vocal sack deflates and he finally goes slack, letting out an exhausted sounding whine as he catches his breath.

Everything after that is, regrettably, a bit of a blur.

You know he drank a fuck ton of water. You know he helped you wipe yourself clean...ish.

but mostly, you remember the uncomfortable silence during it all.

  
The last thing you remember is falling asleep, head resting on one of his arms while the other one limply draped over your middle, still wondering if....

he actually _heard_ you or not..

* * *

  
  
“I know I said it.. _in the heat of the moment_ and all.... and... it _was_ kind of an accident, but... it was still true.”

Jamack stares wide eyed at you, and you aren’t entirely sure if his expression is awestruck... or terrified.

_ Shit. _

  
Luckily, your worries are short lived.

  
  
“..I love you too.”

He says it so confidently, so sweetly, so.. _suddenly_ , you aren’t sure how to respond.

Your stunned silence seems to make him second guess himself and he quickly adds “..... _Idiot_.” As a defensive afterthought.  
But there’s no heat behind it. It feels more like a pet name than an insult.  
  


You continue to stare at him wordlessly, like a complete dumbass, and his face contorts into mild panic.

”That... _is_ what you were talking about, right?” He looks away from you nervously.  
”I didn’t say anything last night because... I thought you misspoke or I heard it wrong, and I didn’t want to uh.. freak you out or.. Everything was just go _good_ and if I heard you wrong..”

A smile slowly creeps onto your face.

He stops rambling immediately and relief floods his features.

“You’re.... _messing_ with me..!”   
A warm laugh bubbles up from his chest. 

You laugh with him, grabbing his hands as he tries to playfully pull them away in mock indignation.

”No! No! Not _intentionally_..!” You giggle.

Jamack gives up the act and holds your hands in his own.

He opens his mouth to say something but then his face drops.

  
.....

“Wait, shit, _what time is it?”_

  
Your brain takes a moment to process the sudden shift in mood.

”..oh. Uhhh...” You look up at the clock. “.....10 ish?”

He grimaces and groans.

”I need to shower. _Now_. I’m going to be late to work and... Well, we _both_ really need a shower before we go _**anywhere**_.”

You give him your best approximation of a _smoldering_ gaze. “Oh Jamack... Is that an _invitation_..?”

He looks like he’s going to shut you down immediately but then...

he purses his lips and narrows his eyes at you, considering it.

  
“....... Maybe. If you want. But no funny business, I really _don’t_ want to be late.”  
  


You grab your coffee, sipping as much of the _still_ too hot liquid as you can manage, before hopping out of bed, fully nude.

”Scout’s honor!!” You give a half assed salute.  
  


Jamack let’s his eyes wander over your body, almost inspecting you, before casually turning around and walking towards the door with a lighthearted scoff.

”I’m almost _certain_ you’ve never been a scout..... but.. It’ll have to do. Come on then.”

You grin. “Sure thing, **_lover_** ~“.

He actually stumbles... then walks even faster away from you.

  
You hurry after him.

..... it wasn’t until much later that Jamack realized he never even got to drink his coffee.


End file.
